


Blinded

by Mezzymet



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depressed Peter, Depression, Flawed characters, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Past Suicide Attempt, Peter Parker - Freeform, Peter is in college, Power Imbalance, Self harm behavior, Slut Shaming, at least for peter, by both parties, discussion of sex work, fake relationship au, no powers, peter cries a lot, peter has a stutter, slightly OOC, tony stark - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-06-25 09:32:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15637992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mezzymet/pseuds/Mezzymet
Summary: Peter was on a mission tonight, dressed in a suit that was just this side of too cheap for such a fancy event.





	1. Jumping in

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> ———
> 
> This fic deserves a pretty enormous warning.
> 
> Peter and Tony are both incredibly flawed and both do questionable, fucked up things. This first part features a lot of slut shaming behavior, purposeful drugging, non consensual photo-taking, and mentions of sex work (very light) and a past suicide attempt/suicidal behavior. There’s also eating disorder like behavior in this (but not quite) and a speech disability.
> 
> If any of these subjects are bothersome to you, I urge you not to read because I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. 
> 
> (Peter is 18 in this and Tony is in his late thirties but honestly, make him whatever age you want)

Peter was on a mission tonight, dressed in a suit that was just this side of too cheap for such a fancy event. But it looked alright on him, accentuated the dip of his waist in a good way. Or at least that’s what Ned had told him before he left.

Not that Ned really approved of what he was doing but. Still.

Okay....yeah....What he was doing was definitely morally reprehensible and Aunt May would disown him if she knew.

But there he was, having weaseled his way into a Stark Industries party, eagerly seeking out Tony Stark’s face in the crowd.

Anthony had told him he’d be here and that it’d be easy but....he was starting to have second thoughts.

This wasn’t right, he’d never fall for it-

Deep gulps of air. Peter could feel panic rising unsteadily in his chest as he weaved through the groups of people gathered in the ballroom.

The ostentatious room served as a reminder for him: Tony Stark was a rich asshole who deserved this and Peter desperately needed the money.

His scholarships couldn’t cover everything and he was already working himself weary every week. He needed this.

And maybe he didn’t actually think Stark was an asshole but....he was just reiterating Robbie’s words. “He deserves this, after all the shit he’s done. Plus, I’ll throw in a little extra if you just-“

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt a hand clap down on his shoulder, just a bit too rough.

“Now I know my assistant didn’t invite any kids to this shindig, so you wanna tell me how exactly you got in?” He knew the voice, of course he did, everybody knew that voice.

He turns around in the persons grip and is faced with none of than Tony Stark. Iron Man. He tried to hide his triumphant smirk. It’s not that hard, really. He’s basically pissing himself from nervousness, on the inside.

“Sir- I um,” He did his best to look like a chastised puppy. Again, not really hard for him. “A friend in-innnvited me and I know I probably shouldn’t be h-here. B-but I just wanted-“

He wishes he could say his stutter was pure acting but it’s not at all. When he gets nervous, it really picks up and gets away from him. It can get pretty frustrating but Mr. Stark doesn’t exactly look....annoyed. If anything, he looks intrigued. 

He’s sure he had already inferred and figured out a dozen different things about him, the genius that he was. Peter just hoped he didn’t figure out....

Well, he just hoped that his plan went smoothly.

“Would you like to come upstairs with me?” The other man asked, apropos to nothing.

Well...that was quick.

 

—

He’d tried to avoid any of the cameras on his way up, or at least keep his face down enough that maybe he’d just come off as shy. 

The last thing he needed was for Stark to know what his face looked like. Still, he couldn’t be sure that he knew where every camera was. Robbie’s info was shoddy at best. 

Hopefully in the event that they could figure out his face, his alibi would save him from any trouble.

The room they arrived in was...big. Great with adjectives as always, Parker. But well, it was. It was big with giant glass windows that looked out onto the city. There was a bar with seats and a sitting area with many couches and chairs. All modern and clean. Exactly what Peter would expect from Tony Stark.

He cleared his throat and turned to see the other man staring at him with a calculating expression. Maybe he wasn’t playing the part of rich Ivy League kid too well.

“Do you...could w-w-we maybe have a drink?” He asked randomly, the quicker he got to the point, the better. Tony’s eyebrows furrowed. Peter had to reign in his stupid fucking stutter, lest it turned the man off. He swallowed his annoyance and glanced at the man imploringly.

“You’re a bit young to be drinking...” The older man trailed off as Peter bit his lip and shrugged, his heart beating harder in his chest.

“Can you let it sliii-slip, just this once, sir?” He watched as Tony’s eye darkened and couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied. Maybe he was doing okay. 

Tony simply laughed and shrugged, “Sure, kid. Pour me one up, while you’re at it. Surprise me.” He said as he took his suit jacket off, momentarily disappearing into a coat closet to put it up.

Peter rushed to comply, he knew he didn’t have much time.

He grabbed a bottle of whiskey at random, pouring it into a glass that probably cost more than his shoes. 

His hands shook as reached into his jacket and he took out a tablet, cracking it over the liquid and letting the powder settle inside.he glanced backward to see Mr. Stark, waking around the living room but not paying attention to what Peter was doing. He only felt mildly guilty at the trust that Tony apparently had in him. He reminded himself that it wasn’t trust but just the fact that he thought the younger man was stupid and....well, young. He probably didn’t even think Peter  
was capable of what he was about to do. 

He swilled his finger around in liquid for a couple of seconds, willing the dust to dissolve as quickly as possible.

Okay. This was it. He had to do this, now that he was here.

He handed the drink over to the other man when he walked forward and set next to him on his couch. 

“You’re very pretty.” Stark said, voice shockingly soft and Peter couldn’t help but blush as he took a sip of his drink. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say I was being tricked into something.”

Peter went cold, his pulse felt like maybe it had stopped and his was sweating inside his suit jacket. He hadn’t even bothered to take it off.

“Um- why would you say- say that?” He asked, voice only shaking a little bit.

Stark only smirked at him, sipping at his drink that Peter tried hard to not stare at. 

“A cute boy like you, coming after me? It’s a bit....shocking, is all.” Bullshit. Stark knew damn well that half the people on his ballroom right now would throw cash to sleep with him. He was just playing Peter now.

“But, well....you’re Irooo-on Man.” He said, voice lame. He hoped it projected all the hero worship that Tony probably loved. “Who wouldn’t....who wouldn’t try?”

Ugh. The man looked entirely too self satisfied and suddenly Peter felt even less guilty about drugging him.

“You haven’t even told me your name.” His words had an odd edge to them, his eyes started to look heavy and Peter knew he’d pass out soon. He just had to make sure he got everything down before someone came looking for them.

“I’m Laurence.” He said, the name he had prepared slipping carelessly from his lips. 

—

He didn’t expect them to move to the bedroom so fast but Tony’s movements (and motivations it seemed) were a bit sluggish.

They hadn’t even kissed before Tony had guided him into a room just to the left of his bar and Peter didn’t even have to time to examine how stupidly expensive the bed looked before Mr. Stark was trying to take his clothes off.

So much for romance.

“Where’s um- the restroom?” He asked as he watched Tony strip off his tie and begin unbuttoning his dress shirt. The older man smirked at him and if it stupidly made Peter’s breath hitch....well, he’d never admit it. To anyone.

“Right through that door, sweetheart.” He pointed at a door to the left and Peter rushed toward it, not looking back at the man undressing in his room. 

He took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror. He already looked wrecked and he hadn’t even slept with the man. He didn’t plan to either. There was nothing he wanted less in the world. Also, Peter was no rapist. Morally unsound, sure. But not a rapist.

He shrugged his jacket and shirt off, folding them carefully before slipping out of his pants. He stood in his boxer briefs and waited impatiently for the older man to fall asleep. Surely it had to happen soon? Peter shuddered at the thought of actually having to do anything with the man.

When he came back to the room, Stark was already passed out on his bed, completely naked. Thank god.

Peter tried to avoid looking at the man, sprawled out on his bedspread and Jesus, okay maybe he wasn’t actually compensating. 

Why did his dick get to be morbidly huge? Wasn’t that kind of unfair?

Peter rolled his eyes and set to work. He carefully pulled at the comforter until he could cover the gigantic appendage between Starks legs (yes, even if he was doing something disgusting deplorable, he still wasn’t going to go THAT far) before pulling out his phone and taking several snaps in quick succession. 

He made sure to get the mans face in the shots. His hair was just rumbled enough that he looked like he had had one hell of a night.

The next photos were going to be far more awkward. Peter took in a gulp of air and sprawled out next to the mans sleeping body, careful not to jostle the bed too much.

He draped one thigh over the older mans crotch, arching his back and aiming his phone high.

The pictures were good. His body looked small next to Starks, definitely that of a much younger man. He made sure to crop his own face of the pictures. He didn’t need to be caught in that one.

He took a few more in various positions where he was draped across Mr. Stark and he even directed his hands to his hips and thighs, to make it look like they were cuddling, before he felt he had enough.

He redressed himself just as quickly and folded his jacket over his arm.

As he was leaving, he made sure to carefully cover the other man. He couldn’t help but glance back as he left, his thoughts stuck on the fact that Tony Stark hadn’t once made fun of or even mentioned his stutter.

—

He felt unnerved as he slipped out of the sleek building and rushed down the street, pulling his phone out as he went. He dialed the number and hoped the other man would pick up this late.

“Robbie, yeah, it-it’s late. I know b-but I got them, the photos.”

Peter nodded as he listened to the other man speak.

“I’ll send them right now.” He breathed a sigh of relief. The night wasn’t over yet.

—

He sent the photos through a separate IP address on a random computer at his schools library. He didn’t want them to get traced back to his phone.

It wasn’t the smartest idea he had and he knew it wasn’t fool proof but he had promised to get the photos to Robbie by the end of the week. And he knew better than to keep the guy waiting. He had a bad reputation for having a short fuse.

He got the photos sent and fired off a single text to Robbie, ‘all done - can’t wait for the article tmrw’.

 

—

Peter didn’t bother checking his phone until he was already seated in class and if he wasn’t so fucking tired, he would have noticed the way everyone seemed to be staring at him.

As it was, the shock of the article on TMZs front page was enough to wake him up.

IRON MAN in GAY romance with BARELY LEGAL student Peter Parker?!

Above a collage of pictures he had taken the night before. In retrospect, they did look really bad. 

The article wasn’t good. In fact, it was really, horribly not good. It painted him out to be an attention seeking slut who had slept with Earths mightiest defender and taken pictures of the aftermath, just for the clout.

Which, yeah. He did it for the money Robbie was going to send him but. Still. How the fuck had his name even gotten involved? This was fool proof, his face wasn’t even IN the photos. He felt his panic mount as he read comments upon comments about how ungrateful he was, how he should be arrested for the photos he took and...

The guilt consumed Peter again, this isn’t what he wanted. It was purely selfish but he hadn’t wanted to get caught in all of this. Maybe this was karma, coming back to bite him in the ass.

He glanced up to see people still staring at him, whispering, some of them even outright glaring.

He couldn’t breathe, his chest felt constricted. His phone vibrated signaling a phone call and- Oh god, Aunt May must have found out and-and- she’d hate him now, he was sure of it.

His phone vibrated with texts and he ignored them all, standing to rush from the room before his teacher could even arrive to class. He ran through the packed hallways, ignoring the way people glanced at him over-long. 

“Pick up, Robbie.” He hissed into his phone. God, his panic was so bad he wasn’t even stuttering anymore. He pushed through the front doors and out into the sunlight. There was less people outside as the bell signaled the beginning of class.

‘The number you are trying to reach is not available.’

Peter almost threw his phone in frustration. How dare he? This was a set up. Anthony had set him up and he had stupidly fallen for it. He probably got way more money when the photos had a name and face connected to them. And they had proven it was him by comparing photos off of his Instagram account. He never shove had trusted Robbie’s creepy ass. Then again, fear wasn’t exactly trust, was it?

He cautiously tried to cross the street, intent on boarding the 9 am train home. He wished he would have worn a hoodie, just so he could hide his face from any curious onlookers.

A car screeched to a half in front of him, causing him to jump back in alarm. Something about the crisp color and flashiness of the car had Peter suddenly wary.

The passenger side window rolled down just an inch. 

“Get in, kid.” An unfamiliar voice said and Peter gaped, ready to disagree when the door opened and a hulking man stepped out, seizing him by his shoulders and manhandling him into the backseat of the car.

“What- the fuck- let me-!” His small body was no use against the other mans brawn and he let himself be shoved into a seat in the wide expanse of the car.

“Thanks, Rod. You can shut the door.” 

Tony Stark say across from him, features set in stern lines and Peter had never felt more terrified in his life.

This man could literally kill him. Shit, he could just HAVE him killed.

“P-please don’t kill me! I’m- I didn’t- I’m sorry f-f-for what I- I diiiid.” He made a noise not unlike a squeak, frustrated with his inability to speak clearly.

“I’m not going to kill you. Christ, kid, what shows have you been watching? I’m not the mob.” He said, eyebrows scrunched together. Peter thanked whatever God existed for the divider that kept the driver and apparent bodyguard from hearing this mortifying conversation. 

He couldn’t let himself feel to relieved, however, because the car was starting to move and Mr. Stark still looked incredibly pissed off.

“Now,” He said, voice dangerously low. “What could possess a sweet boy like you to not only invade someone’s privacy but to also drug them, huh?”

Peter gaped at him like a fish and Tony laughed sardonically.

“Yeah, woke up with a bitch of a headache this morning and decided to review my security tapes because it didn’t feel quite the same as a hangover. And what do I see on those tapes?”

Peter gulped, his throat incredibly dry as he tried to look away from the mans calm anger.

“I see sweet, stuttering Peter Parker. Slipping me a fucking date rape drug. You’re lucky I viewed the tapes or I’d have no clue that you didn’t violate my body. No more than you actually did, anyway.”

Peter felt close to tears but his mouth remained glued shut. He didn’t know what to do or say and he knew that if he spoke, his voice would just crack and he wouldn’t be able to form words.

“I could spin this on you, ya know. What a little fucking creep you’d look like.” Peter felt his eyes well up and spill over. “How dare you come into my home, into my bedroom, and try to make money off of my body.”

“I didn’t- Robbie and he-he said if I didn’t- I just got t-t-too-“ He was bawling then, no doubt making a complete fool of myself.

“You’re lucky I don’t sell you out. I could still do it. Who would believe a freak incapable of speaking right over me? I only took you up because you were young and I knew you’d be easy. Guess I was wrong about that.”

Peter hadn’t been picked on over his stutter for years. Mostly due to his tendency to not speak around other people. He felt the humiliation and hurt roll over him in waves. He was right, they were always right.

Poor little Peter Parker, a freaky little nerd who couldn’t even talk right. Sure, he was less skinny now than he used to be. He’d started working out a lot more but. That didn’t take away the fact that his personality was far uglier than he could ever look. And he’d certainly proven it, too. What was he even thinking?

A fresh bought of sobs tore from his body and he tried to keep them inside, tried to gulp them back but he couldn’t help it. The panic was over-riding any need he had to remain stoic and in control. He felt like he might hyperventilate any second.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself.” Stark said, glancing out the side window. “Laurence.” He added with an inflection that stung.

Peter couldn’t help it. He felt lower than low.

—

This meeting was...awkward to say the least.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Stark asked incredulously.

Pepper Potts rolled her eyes in a bored manner. Peter had no idea what Tony must put her through for her to be this calm but...she didn’t even seem shocked.

“I said, were going to spin this into a good thing. Congratulations, you’re dating now. Or you are to the media.”

Peter looked between the two of them like he was watching a tennis match, confused and upset enough that he once again couldn’t speak. He was just happy they weren’t suing him.

“Why can’t we just throw him under the bus?” The older man asked, voice loud enough that Peter flinched. “It’s what he deserves!”

Pepper grimaced and glared a little at Peter. “While that’s certainly true,” Peter felt new shame roll over him. “You did originally intend to sleep with him. Plus, let’s be honest, Tony. No ones going to believe you.”

Stark scoffed in a deeply offended manner.

“It’s true,” She sighed. “You have a shady enough past that literally no one is shocked that not only are you not straight but you also apparently fuck kids.”

“I-I-I’m not a kid.” Peter said meekly, face flushing as he stuttered again. He turned his face down and stared at the floor.

“You’re eighteen, that’s bad enough.” She said, giving Tony a disapproving glance. “Look, this is a good plan. It’s not going to be easy but let me lay it out for you. You two are new, Tony had no idea he was interested in men but he met you and couldn’t help but fall madly in love with you at first sight. You’ve only been dating for a few months and Peter’s a little dim, he thought he was being cute taking all those photos.”

He didn’t like that, he wasn’t stupid. Except maybe he was. Considering he got caught and all.

“And hey, we’ll even have the kid post some nauseatingly cute picture of the two of you on Instagram. So it looks like Tony has no problem with your apparent photo fetish. Are you with me, Tony?”

The older man glared at her, annoyance clear on his face. “And how long would we have to pretend for? Where’s the line?”

“Six months at minimum.” She said with hesitation.

“Six months-!? You want me to have to be around this- this psychopathic little twink for six months?”

Peter stared at his shoes, feeling every bit the scolded child that he was. “I’m not a psychopath.” He mumbled, clenching his teeth when it slipped out. 

“Oh really?” Stark threw at him, voice bordering on irate. “Explain to me what’s not psychopathic about drugging someone? I sure hope you made a pretty penny for outing someone, kid.”

Pepper went to interject but Peter was already glaring at the other man.

“Well I didn’t get shit!” He growled, stutter momentarily stalled in his anger. 

Stark stared at him, “Oh so you really did do it for the attention? Not getting enough at your little community college?”

Peter realized with mortification that he was on the verge of crying again. Apparently he was just sensitive today. 

“That’s not- I was supposed to get paid for it, okay? And once I-i- agreeed, I couldn’t get- get out of it. Robbie’s kind of a d-dick like that.” Great, the stuttering was back. Maybe Stark would let it slip now that his assistant was around or whatever. 

“Who the fuck is Robbie?” Tony asked right as Pepper voiced the same question, though with less anger and cursing involved.

“He’s- he’s a paparazzo,” Peter admitted with no small amount of shame. “He- he sort of knows my Aunt a-and he’s just....not a good guy, ooo-ooo-okay? He was supposed to, to pay me but I can’t ge-et ahold of him.”

“We’ll have to try and find out where he is.” Pepper said, eyes holding a tiny amount of sympathy.  
She was soft spoken enough that Peter could hear Mr. Starks next insult.

“Jesus, it’s like listening to a skipping record.”

Peter tensed up and clenched his teeth as his hands shook from how hard he gripped his knees.

“Tony!” Pepper hissed, chastising the grown man for picking on the boy. “That’s enough!”

Peter couldn’t take it anymore, he had to get out of this fucking building and just...away.

He stood abruptly, catching the attention of both of the older adults. 

“It’s fine, I’m u-used to iiiit.” He said, even his stutter sounding monotone. He didn’t dare look anyone in the eye. “Look, I’m-I’m sorry, f-for what it’s worth. I k-know thatsss not worth anything but- but still. C-call me when you- need me. I’ll do it.”

He walked out without looking back. Tears stung his eyes and he wouldn’t let them fall, he’d already caused enough trouble today. He didn’t deserve to feel sad.

—

He got a call from Ms. Potts two days later. He had been holed up in his dorm room, thanking god that it was the weekend because he couldn’t take anymore staring from the other students.

He’d also been ignoring Mays calls. But that wasn’t something he wanted to think about just yet.

Ms. Potts was a lot kinder this time... but maybe Peter was just really bad at reading people. That’d explain most of his mishaps. Maybe she felt sorry for him. He surely didn’t deserve it.

Ned wasn’t talking to him at all, which somehow hurt worse than any of the insults he’d had hurtled his way the past two days. Peter understood why. He was mad and had warned him and he hadn’t listened.

So Peter was dealing with the consequences of having acted like an idiot. Ms. Potts had explained over the phone that Tony would be giving a press conference today. Every media outlet has questions and wanted answers. Most of them pertaining to the scandal that was Tony Stark sleeping with an eighteen year old boy. With photo evidence.

Peter would probably never be able to get away from those stupid pictures. He couldn’t even go to the lunch hall anymore, not with the random whispered insults hurtled his way. He hadn’t gone back since that first time, forcing him to live off of the few snacks he stole from work. His job was awkward and he was lucky his boss was nice and didn’t believe in gossip, or he would have already been fired from the bookstore.

His classes were awkward and stilted but at least the people refrained from talking too much shit. It hurt more that Ned was in two of his classes but refused to even look at him.

Just yesterday he had asked a girl in his bio class to pass him their reading material and she’d snorted and said “Sure, slut.” He’d pretended to let it roll of his back, ignoring the sting of her words. What had hurt worse was the way Ned ignored them too. 

He deserved it. He knew he did but that didn’t make the pill easier to swallow.

—

“And did you have a sexual relationship with Mr. Parker? For how long?” A nameless, faceless reported asked in the crowd.

Peter stared at the small, cracked screen of his phone as he peered at the footage streaming on YouTube. 

“A couple of months and yes, I did. I do.” Mr. Stark said, no ounce of shame on his face.

“But he’s eighteen-“ Someone gasped in the crowd. Pepper Potts gestures for the people to calm down amid a round of angry muttering.

“And I didn’t know that when I met him.” Tony said simply. “He was kind and smart and I was instantly attracted to him. He’s legal and what we do behind closed doors is our own business.” 

Peter clenched his jaw. He didn’t expect the words to sting. They were nice, far too nice for someone as lowly as Peter, and that’s what hurt the most. The first time anyone had ever said something nice about him and they didn’t even mean it.

“And how do you explain the photos? Were they blackmail or just a mistake?” Another reporter asked from the other side of the room.

Mr. Stark laughed and rolled his eyes. He played the uncaring role a little to easily, Peter thought. “They were obviously a mistake. Peter is young, as you all like to point out. I saw no issue with his pictures. He was having fun, end of story.”

“And why isn’t he with you? If he wants to clear the air? And how do we know this relationship isn’t a coercion on your part-?”

“I’m gonna interrupt you there, before you go on a tangent,” Mr. Stark said easily. “I care deeply for Peter. I wasn’t about to subject him to....all of this. Surely you can understand the want to protect a loved one.”

Peter’s heart clenched painfully and he closed out of the window before he could hear any more of the conference. He wanted to scream and throw things and he just wanted fucking Ned to stop avoiding him, to come back to their dorm room. He hadn’t been back for a few days, he was probably bunking at Amanda’s, his non-girlfriend girlfriend. Peter would have been proud of him for making a move if it hadn’t involved the two of them fighting.

He just needed to give him time. He hoped that’d be enough.

For now, he needed to stop being a coward. He needed to visit May.

—

He knocked on the paint chipped door in front of him, his hoodie pulled carefully over his head to avoid any stragglers on the street who might recognize him.

His subway ride over had been uneventful as he kept his head down and face covered in darkness. 

May opened the door and Peter could barely meet her eyes, instant shame flooding him at the worried look he knew resided in them. He couldn’t bear the idea that he might have let her down. Not might. Had. Because he knew he’d let everyone down.

“Peter, you know you don’t have to knock,” She said instead of a greeting, voice soft as always. “This is your home too.”

And just like that he was bawling, throwing himself forward into his Aunts accepting arms as he gasped for air and tears rolled down his red face. He couldn’t get enough air and he felt like his heart was going to fail, like it couldn’t beat fast enough to send blood through his body.

“I-uh-fucked-uh-up.” He hiccuped, his voice loud and pathetic to his own ears as he cried like a baby. His Aunt must have already shut the door because she guided him to the threadbare couch in the center of their small living room. 

“Shhh, sweetie.” She whispered but Peter only felt worse. “Peter, you have to calm down, honey. It’ll be okay, whatever’s wrong. Please talk to me.”

He gasped wetly and withdrew his face from her neck, gazing apologetically at the tear stains all over her nice blouse. 

“I’m so- sorry,” He said, voice shaky as more tears leaked out. He wrung his hands in front of him and one look at his Aunts worried face at him spilling his guts. “I’m not- I’m not dating T-tony Stark, it’s a ploy be-because I did a bad thing, oh god May, I did a bad thing! I faked those piiictures. R-Robbie offered me-me money-“ Her eyes darkened at the mention of Robbie but Peter couldn’t stop. “I just- I wanted to help! And he k-kept saying I couldn’t ba-baaack out, that he’d send his boys a-fter meee- I fucked up and, and, and Ned won’t t-talk to me and people at school call me a-a slut and Tony isn’t-isn’t suing me b-buuut he HATES me and he should- I drugged him! Oh god, I drugged him!” 

His face felt raw as tears streamed down it, cascades of salt stinging his skin. He wanted to claw his way out, wanted to dig his nails into his arms until they bled into the carpet. He deserved it, he deserved to feel lower than dirt. 

“Please don’t hate me. Please, p-p-please don’t...You’re all I have l-left...” He begged pathetically. She should have thrown him out as soon as he came. She shouldn’t have to deal with him.

He felt arms wrap tight around him until his head rested on her chest. 

“I could never hate you, Peter.” She whispered, words choked up. “I’m just sorry you felt like you needed to do that. I won’t lie and say I’m not disappointed, I am. But you’re not...Peter, honey. You always carry too much and you worry too much and....it breaks my heart. You don’t have to save anyone else. I always think about how hard you work yourself, how much you don’t take care of yourself. Please, please don’t....Peter, promise me you won’t do anything drastic over this.” Her voice was raw, an edge of begging to it that Peter hadn’t heard in years. 

He wanted to bristle, wanted to get offended like when he was fourteen and still to immature and stupid but. She was right, he wasn’t doing good. He hadn’t been doing good, long before this whole incident. 

“I want you to stay with me....for a few days.” He almost went to protest. He had so much school work stacking up already. “Please, Peter....I can’t....I can’t do it again.” She whispered and Pete’s face scrunched up as he tried not to cry more. Her arms squeezed tightly around him. “I can’t lose you for real this time.”

He agreed to stay, even as his insides felt like ice.

—

He stayed with Aunt May for two days, forgoing his Friday class in leu of ignoring the outside world in favor of recuperating his fragile mental state. Deep down he knew he shouldn’t be getting a reprieve, not after what he had done but. But he had to do it. For Aunt May. He had to get better. They’re all each other had anymore and....she’s right, he needs to be around. For her, if not anybody else.

He couldn’t put her through that turmoil again.

He returned to his dorms on Sunday and he almost felt better again. Like the two days of watching movies and talking to May might have helped. Until he saw Ned sitting on the other side of the room, working on his English project.

It took about two minutes for the other boy to begin gathering his supplies up, readying himself to leave.

“Wait- Ned, please d-don’t go- we should talk-“ He said, trying to block the door but his friend wasn’t having it.

“I can’t do this right now, Peter.” He said, sighing heavily. “I have an exam to study for and so do you. I’ll come to you when I’m ready.”

He left without another word and Peter was too much of a coward to stop him, to demand that he let him explain.

But explain what exactly? That he’d drugged a man unwillingly and his excuses for doing so were feeble at best? He had to remind himself that getting shanked by one of Robbie’s friends probably wasn’t feeble. But he’d gotten himself into this, anyway. 

He’d had a stupid drunken night with Robbie, an inadvisable thing but he’d always wanted to get into Peter’s pants. So Peter decided to use him, one night a few weeks ago when he was feeling lonely and sad. He’d convinced him to buy them some alcohol and now that Peter was aware and sober and weeks away from the event, he realized how lucky he is that Robbie never tried to violate him. He shivered at the thought, the man wasn’t known to be morally sound. 

They had gotten drunk on some rooftop downtown. Maybe it was Robbie’s apartment building, he couldn’t remember but Peter had gotten entirely too wasted, wallowing in his own self pity as usual.

He only vaguely remembered their idiotic agreement. They’d been joking about Stark, about how he was a rich asshole and someone should fuck him over, blackmail him.

Peter had joked about how he was probably secretly into dick and how funny would it be if he got caught when some young guy? It’d show the world just how gross he really was.

He hadn’t expected Robbie to take him seriously. Or to text him about it when he was sober. Just the flash of an idea, an “Oh hey, Petey? Know who looks pretty young?” And then Robbie wouldn’t take no for an answer, he said it was a great business deal and that Peter was smart for thinking it up. (“That’s why I keep you around, you ain’t just a pretty face, Parker.”)

It didn’t feel like a compliment because it wasn’t meant to be one.

—

Pepper Potts texted him later that night. A drone arrived at his dorm window only five seconds after he felt the buzz.

He confusedly opened the hatch to the tiny window and took the medium sized brown package that it carried. It’s red light blinked twice before it zoomed off into the night.

The package was addressed him  
but there were no other notes to give a clue as to what was inside.

He peeled the package apart and found a box, shiny and new looking. The kind you out expensive clothing in, probably. He opened the box and found a pair of charcoal grey slacks laying inside. A quick look at the tag showed that they were the correct size.....which was odd.

Of course when he saw the text from Ms. Potts, it became clear that they were from her.

“Date night tmrw - wear the slacks and a nice shirt. Please don’t antagonize him.”

He wasn’t sure whether it was creepy or impressive that she knew his exact sizing but....either way, his stomach filled with dread.

He’d have to do this. He would have to go on some fake date with Tony Stark, while the man in question glared at him and threw insults all night.

No. No, he got himself into this. He would fix it by....by sucking it up and doing what he had to do. Tony wasn’t that scary and Peter had to stop with the self pity.

—

Tony was pretty scary, actually. 

Peter had arrived on time, having left his subway car ON time. (Wearing a hoodie pulled over his head had probably looked strange with the nice slacks and polished shoes but. Necessity.) Only to be chastised when he got to his destination. On time.

They met outside Tony’s residence and he had quickly been directed to a random car, no doubt expensive and completely unnecessary. Of course they weren’t gentle when a random security guard shoved him into the car and shut the door behind him.

“Nice of you to actually show up, you’re late.” Tony said, not even bothering to glance at him as he worked through something on his phone. Peter couldn’t help but gaze at the technology longingly. It looked so complicated, had to involve thousands of different prototypes and-

“I wasn’t late.” He grumbled, stripping out of his hoodie and placing it on the car seat. Stark even sneered at the garment.

“Yeah, well, I don’t really care.” The older man said childishly. “Here’s how this is gonna go. We’re having a cute little dinner at an over populated Hell hole, you’re going to be sweet and nice and act like a good boy. If you even think about ruining this, I’ll ruin your life.”

The threat wasn’t lifeless, Peter knew. Maybe he was just used to being threatened by bigger men lately but he mostly just felt tired.

A hand gripped Peter’s forearm and he flinched so hard, he hit his head on the car ceiling.

“Do you understand?” The man asked, voice a frustrated growl.

Peter rubbed at the sore spot on his head and tore his arm from the mans grip. “Ye-yes, I get it-it.” 

Great. Tonight would be amazing, having to spend time with a literal bully and now he just had to give him ammo. Peter averted his eyes and looked out the window, watching the streets of New York pass by. He could be asleep right now or working on his English project but...

No. He fucked up.

—

The date was as bad as he expected it to be. Maybe worse.

They sat at an over exposed table on the balcony, the last beams of sunlight streaming onto their candlelit table. Peter wasn’t hungry in the first place but he definitely wouldn’t be around Stark.

He made him too nervous and said too many backhanded things. Peter was sure it was karma doing it’s work but he was only human, and a sensitive human at that.

The other man had grabbed his hand mid meal and Peter tried to reign in the need to pull it away violently. He wasn’t a big fan of random touching.

He peered into his eyes like he loved him. Peter could hear the chatter of paparazzi on the street below.

“So, did you ever get your money?” The man asked bitterly, sipping at his wine. Peter bristled at the question.

“No.” He said simply. The man already knew he hadn’t, why dig the knife in?

“Good. You get nowhere in life, blackmailing people for money. You have to...You know, actually work for things.” Peter gripped Starks hand hard at those words and tried to keep a glare off his face.

“With all d-due re-respect, I’ve worked multiple j-jooobs for years. Y-you have no clue what I’ve do-one for money.” He diverted his gaze to his plate, pretending to eat bites of food.

Stark pulled his hand away but Peter refused to look at him. 

“Oh, so you really have prostituted yourself then? Like your body? Not just your morals, so we’re clear.” He asked, voice uncaring and Peter wanted to throw something at him.

“That’s r-really none of your business.” He said, voice dripping with venom. He smiled sweetly at him then, eyes peering up toward the other man with a flirtatious glance before he darted his foot out and kicked him in the shin. Hard. “Oops, my foot slipped.” He giggled, taking a sip of his wine while Stark cursed in pain.

He was so over it, pretending to be nice to the man. He had done wrong, he knew that but having his life choices judged was....hard to take. All Peter had left was his pride these days and even that was wearing thin.

—

“You’re sure there’s no way out of it?” May asked, voice tense even over the phone.

Peter sighed and stared at his ceiling. “I’m sorry, May...but....it’s-it’s not l-like I don’t deserve it.”

May remained quiet and it didn’t make Peter feel any better. “I think....you messed up pretty bad, Peter. But that doesn’t mean you should have to be some kind of servant to that- that-“

Peter shut his eyes tightly, tried to quell the sick feeling in his stomach. He still hadn’t been eating much lately. He felt like his body couldn’t take it. Maybe a small part of him felt that he didn’t deserve to eat, even. But he wouldn’t dwell on that, it was stupid.

“It’s fine, I-i promise, o-okay? I’ll be okay.” May sighed heavily and they talked for a few more minutes about mundane things. School and dorm life and they carefully avoided the topic of Ned.

—

The press from his date with Tony followed him, almost literally, to his dorm.

He knew they’d get papped, he was aware of the purpose of their whole excursion. He just wasn’t aware he’d become even more over an overnight sensation. Because now he wasn’t just some random kid who might have taken illegal pictures of Tony Stark. No, now he was Tony Stark’s idiotic boyfriend who followed him around like a puppy. 

He hadn’t been caught by any of the paparazzi yet. Not at school, anyway. Thankfully the campus had good enough security that he didn’t think any of them would manage to get through even if they tried.

Suffice to say, Peter’s whole week wasn’t going good. He hadn’t seen his friend, he’d barely gotten any sleep, and he could fully admit that he sunk deep into a web dive of his own name.

The articles were bad but the tweets were worse. He was a whore, he was after Tony’s money (not untrue), he didn’t deserve to live..

At least work was keeping him occupied. He was dead tired after the last rush of the day.

Peter breathed out throw his nose as he leaned against the brick wall behind him and stared at the screen of his phone. He lifted the paper covered forty to his mouth and took another big gulp.

Peter wasn’t much of a drinker, not even when he was rarely invited to parties in high school. But he was wallowing in self pity and sadness and he’d actually managed to talk some young chick who didn’t recognize his face into buying him some beer. So, maybe the night wasn’t so bad. 

Peter also wouldn’t normally break the law and get drunk in the back alley outside work but. Desperate times, desperate measures. Plus, the lack of food in his stomach made the alcohol settle quicker.

The people were probably right. 

The thought struck somewhere in the back of his brain as his mind became fuzzy from the alcohol.

They were probably right, he probably didn’t deserve...

No. He wasn’t doing this again. He couldn’t do it...he wouldn’t put May through it again. 

It was fine. It would be fine. He finished off his beer and trudged drunkenly to his dorm, campus wasn’t far from his job site.

As he walked along the dark and undoubtedly unsafe streets (who cares at this point, right?) his phone buzzed in his pocket. 

“2 dates this week, Tuesday and Friday- one casual, one semi casual. Be ready.”

Peter squinted at the blurry words, taking minutes to discern what they meant. Oh. Right, Pepper Potts.

“Suree thng miss stark” He typed, not fully considering his words.

He kept walking as another buzz sounded from his phone. He checked to see another message from Pepper.

“Tony and I are not together.” It said and Peter frowned in confusion.

“Rly?” He typed. “Odd, ur pretty n nicer than him.”

“Go to sleep, Peter.” Was all he got in reply. It was fine, he’d made it onto campus, narrowly avoiding his curfew.

Now to just look a little bit more sober on his way up to his dorm room.

 

—

 

His next date with Tony didn’t go well. The tabloids were still not exactly happy that the man in his late thirties was dating an 18 year old boy, so they were trying to make it look a little less sleazy, a little more innocent. Going out to do cute things and what-not. That’s how they ended up at another overpopulated restaurant. Peter wasn’t sure how flaunting their ‘relationship’ made things less sleazy but....oh well. It’s not like he had a choice in the matter.

Tony was already annoyed with him before he even arrived and Peter wasn’t even in the mood to respond to his mocking insults today. He was too tired, too hungover from drinking alone last night.

It didn’t go unnoticed, of course it didn’t.

“-appreciate if you didn’t hit on my assistant.” Peters eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the food in front of him. He aimlessly drug his salad around, unwilling to eat. He didn’t think he could take it today.

He glanced up at Mr. Stark. “I.....didn’t?” He asked, unsure of what to say. He was confused. He’d texted Pepper last night and he remembered that but...he definitely hadn’t hit on her. “No offense...b-but I’m gay- so like- I, I definitely wasn’t hitting on h-her.”

Well, at least his hungover mind was keeping the stuttering to a minimum. 

Tony stared at him contemplatively, eyes darting to his food. “You were drunk,” He said simply. “That why you’re not eating? Still hungover?”

It felt like an accusation, one that Peter didn’t really understand but still made him feel weirdly defensive.

“I ate this morning,” He lied. He wasn’t sure why. “But I’m having trouble keeping it down so...”

Tony looked even less convinced but he let the topic go, eyes straying from Peter.

“Smile a little bit.” He said and before the younger knew what to do, he’d reached for his hand across the table and pulled it to his mouth, kissing the back of it. His face went dark red, he knew it did.

He tried to sputter in shock, even after Tony set his hand down. His stomach felt light and uncomfortable. The older man just looked at him blankly.

“Sorry,” He said, the word weird in his mouth. “Wanted a good pap shot.”

Peter deflated, not even realizing that any part of him had inflated from the brief moment of attention. Fuck, he must really be lonely. 

—

 

Their Friday date couldn’t have come at a worse time. Peter was so busy, run thin by the amount of projects and coursework he’d narrowly managed to finish in between shifts at work. 

He was tired, his body ached by the time Friday rolled around. And yet, he couldn’t leave work Friday night and go straight to his dorm and pass out. No. Because he had a fucking fake date with someone who rightfully hated his guts and he was just....so sleepy and weak and his body felt seconds from crashing.

He’d had a banana for breakfast but opted to skip lunch as he was too busy at work to even think about eating. He’d eat later tonight, at whatever weird rich people gala Pepper had said Tony was taking him to. Their first time actually out in public, surrounded by people.

Pepper had already sent his outfit and he had to admit, he looked good in the grey and black three piece suit. He looked older than his age and that was probably a good thing. He even smoothed his hair back in order to get rid of the baby face situation. 

—

Tony was in a bad mood immediately, that much was abundantly clear. 

They heralded him into another sleek car when they picked him up. He’d been giving them an address a bit further from his dorm, if only to keep the paps away from his living space. He was sure some of them already knew his exact room number but he also didn’t really want questions from any of the other students, not when they seemed to be forgetting about his....situation, in favor of newer gossip. 

So he continued to do the whole hoodie up thing. Only tonight he had to wear a hoodie over a full suit which was a little odd looking.

He took it off as soon as he sat down, turning and opening his mouth to greet Tony. Maybe if he started out nice, the other man would be nicer in return.

“Hi-Um, I got the outfit you sent-“

“The one Pepper sent.” The older man corrected, pulling out his phone as the car started moving again. Peter rushed to put his seatbelt on. “Pepper chose the suit, not me.”

Okay. So the nice thing wasn’t going to work tonight. Obviously. Peter only sighed as he sunk back into his seat, his exhaustion hitting him once again. The adrenaline from his previous anxiety had faded away. 

He went to ask about that nights event but Tony interrupted him before he could even say a word.

“What I’m gonna need is for you to...not talk. Not just now but all night.” The man said without glancing away from the phone in his hand. Peter couldn’t even react negatively, not with his eyes trying to slip shut every second. Whatever, he was used to the man saying snide things about his stutter. It wasn’t new. 

“The less talking, the better. Just stand there and look pretty.” Peter blushed, turning to look out his window to hide how flustered he suddenly felt, despite his exhaustion.

It’s just....no one ever called him things like that. Ever. Even if it wasn’t true, it still felt pretty nice to just...

No. It was stupid and Tony hated his guts. He was just starved for attention, that’s all.

“Yes, sir.” He whispered sarcastically, ignoring the way his vision swam.

—

When they arrived at the Gala, Tony was immediately on him in a way that Peter wasn’t used to. From anyone. They stepped out of the car after the driver opened the door for them and Tony wrapped an arm around his waist, nodding at people standing outside of the ridiculously big....museum? He wasn’t really sure where they were going (he hadn’t payed too much attention to the details admittedly) but the building was huge and old looking and the grounds were stone. He felt an odd sense of foreboding.

“Rule one: Don’t talk to anyone in sentences. Rule two: Don’t talk to anyone on your own.” Tony listed as he walked Peter through the crowd. They entered the building and the younger man was taken aback by the sheer size of what looked like a ballroom. The walls were high and the ceiling had multiple chandeliers. A two piece staircase met in the middle of the far end and led to what looked like more rooms.

He felt poor just standing in the doorway.

—

It didn’t take long for Tony to break his own rules and leave Peter alone. He didn’t really mind, not with how fuzzy his head felt. He stood in front of a bar to the left of the room and leaned forward, crossing his arms on top of it. Maybe he could sneak off somewhere and take a nap. Maybe one of those waiters with food would come by but he didn’t even know if he could stomach anything, not with how much his belly was hurting.

“You look lonely.” Peter hadn’t even noticed the man standing directly behind him as he leaned heavily on the counter in front of him. He was too worn out to even jump in surprise.

He turned around and glanced at the person talking to him. A blond man, probably in his late twenties. He was handsome and tall, probably over six feet. Peter barely registered that he was staring rudely at the other mans clear blue eyes.

“I’m uh, uh fine.” He said quietly. Partially from the sluggish feeling his veins but also because he wasn’t used to attractive men just...approaching him. “Just...standing here.” If he were a better state of mind, he would have cringed at himself.

The guy smiled at him, his teeth beautifully white and shining. Peter blushed and glanced around the ballroom, trying to discern if Mr. Stark was watching.

“You’re Tony’s....friend, yea?” He asked, voice low as his hands tucked into his pockets. Peter only nodded dumbly. “I’m Phillip....why did Stark leave you alone? Isn’t he afraid all the sharks will get you?” 

He was being flirted with, he wasn’t stupid and....fuck, it felt good to get any kind of positive attention from someone. 

“What exactly is a s-shark, in this siiiituation?” He mentally rolled his eyes at the stuttering noises he couldn’t run away from but Phillip didn’t look remotely bothered. Then again, Peter wasn’t exactly thinking straight.

“All the old men staring at you, of course.” He joked, looking Peter up and down. The younger man flushed and shook his head, the motion making his head pound. He blinked his eyes hard. “Like sharks around blood.”

Peter laughed again, squinting at the man in front of him. “I’m sorry, did you-you just call me b-blood?” He asked with a small smile.

“Not my best analogy.” Phillip admitted with a chuckle. God, he was so handsome and Peter just wanted to- he didn’t know what. “I just heard some stuff about you and I thought I’d ask-“

Peter’s reaction wasn’t great, even in his haziness. “Heard stuff about me?” He asked warily, unsure of where this conversation was going. “What kind of...stuff?”

The other man didn’t even blanch. “That you’re Tony Stark’s.....kept boy.” Peter couldn’t hide his flinch or the confusion on his face. “You’re his....high class escort.”

Peter’s heart felt heavy. Of course. Of course this would happen. “I’m not an, an escort,” He said, standing up straight from the bar behind him. “I don’t know wh-whhere you heard that, T-tony and I are very happy-“

“Happy enough that you flirt with other men in public?” He asked, voice still even. Peter couldn’t believe his ears, he just couldn’t get away from this shit. He felt the panic stir in his veins even as his head spun with dizziness. 

“I wasn’t flirting w-with you,” He said defensively. “And I don’t know, k-know what you want but-“

He made to walk past the other man, wanting to put some distance between them but was pulled back by a hand on his bicep. They stood side to side and Phillip leaned in to whisper into his ear.

“I wanted to see how much you...cost per night.” He whispered and Peter felt his eyes sting. “I didn’t expect Tony Stark’s boy to be so cute but then I saw you here and-“

Peter yanked his arm away as calmly as possible, clenching his jaw hard against the wetness in his eyes. 

“Fuck off.” He said, voice thick as he struggled to swallow. He quickly pulled himself away and into the crowd around them. It felt like the walls were going to close in around him. He had to get somewhere, anywhere secluded.

Somehow he ended up on the stairs and through a separate room until he reached a large bathroom, empty but full of stalls. He rushed to the sinks and splashed water on his face, not bothering to make sure he didn’t get his expensive suit wet. Fuck the suit, fuck Tony Stark and fuck men who thought before they spoke.

Most of all, fuck himself for thinking anyone could be interested in him without it being about sex.

Shit, he probably should have just slept with Phillip. He probably had a small dick, with all that compensating. He was probably really vanilla too and paid well. Peter laughed even as he felt tears fall down his cheeks. Fuck men.

He heard the bathroom door creak open and he rushed to wipe his cheeks free of tears. 

He was just about to turn the faucet on and pretend to wash his hands when he glanced up and saw-

Tony. Standing in front of the closed door, arms crossed and face angered. Peter had no idea what he’d even done this time but-

“What part of don’t talk to people without me didn’t you understand?” He asked coldly, Peter rolled his eyes and turned around slowly.

“I’m going to just ignore p-people who-“ He began to say weakly. Tony walked toward him in an angry stride, giving Peter no choice but to rush back in fear until his back hit the wall.

“I thought it was pretty clear that you shouldn’t flirt with the other guests.” The man said, voice dangerously low. Peter’s eyes threatened to close as he struggled to focus on the man in front of him.

“I wasn’t- I didn’t, h-he was an ass-“ He stuttered, voice growing thin. Why couldn’t anyone just leave him alone tonight? He just wanted to go home and sleep.

“It doesn’t matter what he was.” The older man snapped, voice too loud for Peter’s brain to comprehend. “What matters is you fucking up the very fragile illusion we’ve built that you and I are actually-“

“God, just s-Shut up,” Peter whined as his eyes clouded up with more tears. “H-he just wanted to buuuy a n-night with me, okay?” He hoped the other man would stop talking soon, would just leave him in this bathroom. He felt his stomach lurch in pain. 

“He what?” Tony asked and great, he looked even more pissed off. “You said no, right?” 

Peter couldn’t help it, he laughed hysterically as he hiccuped and tears chapped the skin on his face. He braved one hand on the wall as he slumped down further and rubbed his forearm over his wet face. 

“Fucking- no, I d-didn’t fuck your rich fr-frrriend for money. When w-would I even have the time?” He was mumbling, he knew it but he couldn’t manage to make his voice any louder. 

“Good, because-“ He blocked Tony’s rant out as he felt his insides lurch again. He tried to hide it, tried to hold the pain inside but fuck, it hurt so much. “Who was it?” He heard distantly.

“What?” He asked in confusion. His mind caught up with him as he eyes clenched shut again on their own accord. “I think- was Phillip. Or something-“

Peter tipped forward unsteadily, blood rushing quickly to his head. His vision swam, circles mixing and blotting black and his ears suddenly felt full of cotton.

He sagged into the wall behind him, only vaguely aware of Mr. Starks voice calling his name. The pounding in his head wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t ease up and his stomach kept clenching on nothing, like he wanted to throw up or dry heave but his body was too weak to even try.

A hand swept his curls back, cold on the scorching skin and Peter heard a moan of discomfort come from his mouth. He pushed his head toward the source of the cold and tried to unclench his eyes, tried to get his arms to unwrap from his abdomen. He was squeezing too tightly, he could tell. But he wanted to contain the cramps, the pain of his body unleashing it’s fury on him. God, he fucking deserved to feel like this. He deserved to be sweating and crying on Mr. Starks fancy carpet.

“-Christ, kid. I’m so sorry- please open your eyes, god what did you do, did that fucker give you someth-“ He could hear rambling near his left ear as the hand on his head left and he couldn’t help whine and reach for it again, unwilling to open his eyes.

“-think he took something? No, maybe- hasn’t been eating, I don’t think. Thank you, thank you- yes, we’re at-“ He could hear snippets of conversation, like Tony was talking to someone or maybe he was on the phone. Peter didn’t care, he only cared about not throwing up all over his expensive slacks. God, that’d be the ultimate karma, wouldn’t it? To his throw up all over the floor in front of Mr. Stark. Who already hated him so much.

He could hear a whimpering noise but he had no idea where it was coming from.

“-don’t hate you, oh my god- Pete, please stay awake, you’re scaring me-“ 

Peter let out a laugh, maybe it was a wheeze. His eyes were too heavy to open, ears too clouded too hear too much. Everything was in a tunnel and he could feel the steady thump-thump-thump of his heart, sluggishly keeping up. Maybe it’d stop for real this time. Maybe he’d inadvertently done it this time. Not like last time when May had found him bleeding out on their bathroom floor on Christmas Eve, six months after Ben had been shot. She’d saved his life but she wasn’t here to save it this time. She’d be so disappointed in him.

“I-I- don’t wanna-“ He could hear someone muttering, thin as smoke over his heartbeat. “Don’t wanna die.”

His brain went black, his eyes went black, all he could feel was black.

—

White light pounded into his skull as he tried to swallow, only to cough violently. His eyes opened too fast, too much pressure behind his eyeballs and they felt dry. His throat felt dry as he succumbed to his coughing fit.

It took him several seconds to realize where he was and even more to register the hand in front of him, giving him a paper cup of water. Heavy sheets rested against his skin and a steady beeping noise sounded close to him.

He was in a hospital. Dread filled him as he glanced around, the cup in his hand shaking. White walls and blue sheets. Oh god, what had he done? He glanced left and right, eyes landing on his Aunts face, the only person in the room with him.

She looked tired and like she’d been crying. Fuck, fuck what had he done? He tried to ask, tried to talk but he only started coughing again.

“Drink the water, baby.” May murmured, voice sad but unwavering. He lifted the cup up and downed it in one go, relief filling his parched throat. She stood up and refilled it with the jug beside his bed and he drank another two cups before he felt better.

She sat his cup down after he’d finished and pushed his hair back from his forehead. He felt so cold and so tired all of a sudden. He gazed up at her with wide, imploring eyes, incapable of asking the question. He was so confused.

“You passed out.” She said, voice quiet. “They said you’re....a little bit malnourished. Haven’t been eating for weeks, haven’t been drinking enough water.”

Peter cleared his throat, staring at May in a way that he hoped looked earnest. “May- I- it’s not like- I wasn’t trying to-“

She sighed heavily and Peter could see the wetness gather in her eyes as she gazed at him. “I know you weren’t trying to- but....Peter, this is bad. Were you trying to starve yourself? Why would you want to do that?”

He gulped, unsure of the answer himself. It hadn’t been conscious, he knows it hadn’t been. “I just- I got too scared t-to go to the cafeteria and then I, I j-just- kept putting off eating, like I would be in a bbad place and I’d forget or I’d b-be so disgusted w-with my-myself-“

“Why would you be disgusted with yourself?” She asked and if Peter could cry, he would. His body felt too tired and dehydrated to manage it.

“I’ve- I’ve done so much bad this year, May. I-I, I don’t think I’m a g-good person.” He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t see the confirmation that he was right. “I’m just so tired.” He admitted, eyes sliding shut.

“I know, baby. I know.” Was the last thing he heard before he fell asleep.

—


	2. Jumping Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this doesn’t feel horribly disjointed. I’m still deciding what to do with these characters!

He woke an undetermined amount of time later and it took him a few seconds to remember where he was. The lights were lower, so it must have been night time.

He tried his best to stretch out on the stiff hospital bed but was instantly hindered by the IV attached to his arm.

“Careful,” A soft voice said and if Peter could sit up, he would be able to see who- oh. Ned. Peter stared blankly at the man approaching his bed, his mind too hazy to react to the other mans presence. “May went home to shower and eat. Her and I had a long talk...she’s pretty scary when she wants to be, isn’t she?” He tried to joke but it fell flat as Peter continued to stare at the other man impassively.

He looked tired, his hair a mess atop his head and eyes oddly red tinted. But he couldn’t have been- not for Peter.

“Peter, I’m-“ He started but broke off, taking in a deep breath. “I’m so, incredibly sorry. I never knew- and I just didn’t realize-“

Peter grew cold. What had May told him? “Are you so-sorry because you think I t-tried to off myself again?” He asked monotonously. Ned flinched back.

“No!” He said adamantly. “I know you weren’t- I just didn’t know how to talk to you, these past weeks and then I got a call that, that you were in the hospital and oh my god, Peter, I didn’t know what to think-“ Ned was crying even as he hid his face behind one hand and all of a sudden Peter was too tired to be petty.

“H-hey, I’m not- I’m fine, I-I’m alive, okay?” He said softly, his throat dry with nerves. “It’s ooo-kay, I promise. I’m s-s-sorry I scared you.”

Ned’s eyes were so red and honestly, Peter would have forgiven him for anything. “It’s, I just got so mad at you,” He said weakly, looking away from Peter and wringing his hands. “You started hanging around Robbie and I told you it was a bad idea but you wouldn’t listen to me and then you, you told me about his idea and- I was so scared you’d get arrested or worse-“

The ‘or worse’ hung heavily in the air between them.

“I’m n-not suicidaaal.” Peter stuttered, voice kind but sleepy. “Not anymore, I’m j-just very....de-depressssed, I think. Maybe I need to g-go back on my med, meds.” He tried to joke but it barely made Ned laugh.

“I just want you to be alive and happy, Pete. That’s all any of us want.” He said, eyebrows knitted together like a kicked puppy. Peter gulped and nodded. “I love you so much, you’re like a brother to me. I’m so sorry I ignored you-“

“Ned, I love you too- I get it, it’s uh- it’s f-fine. I forgive you.” He said as he tried to stop the wetness in his eyes from falling. He had missed Ned so much..

“It really isn’t.” Ned said morosely. “But....thank you for forgiving me. I’m not...I know I fucked up and I feel awful about-“

Peter gasped wetly, a weird mix of a laugh and a cry. “Just, sit w-with me, please. Talk to me for a little bit. About anything. Tell me ab-about Jen?”

Ned looked grateful as he sat next to Peter’s bed and started talking.

 

—

 

He got to leave the very next day and May insisted that he stay with her for the next few days, despite the threat of exams looming on the horizon. He couldn’t disagree and found that he didn’t really want to. Despite wanting to spend more time with Ned after they have made up, he also wanted to spend some time with May. If only to assuage the guilt he feels for scaring her.

They hadn’t really talked much yet. Not enough, anyway.

He was put on IVs at the hospital and he was back to a steady enough diet that he longer felt the pain of constant hunger accompanied with dizziness. He still felt a bit tired but he was doing so much better. Every one kept telling him he looked better already. 

It didn’t take long for May to bring it up. Ned had been nice enough to help him bring some of his things over to Mays house and Peter was glad to accept the ride. The company was nice too.

He arrived mid day and wasn’t sure whether May would be home but he said a quick goodbye to his friend and shuffled into the house.

She was already waiting for him, sat on the couch as she stared at her folded hands in her lap. Peter gulped and sat his bag down, already weary.

“Peter, listen.” His back stiffened cautiously as May beckoned for him to sit down with her. “I....please don’t be mad. But....I’d like it if you would maybe see a therapist.”

Peter gritted his teeth, avoiding eye contact with the older woman. “I don’t need-“

“Please, Peter,” She pled as her eyes went misty. “It’s...I found this doctor. Dr. Renald. She’s incredibly kind and-“

“How would I even afford that, May?” Peter asked in a small voice.

“I know her from school. We’re sort of old friends.” She said simply. “She said we could cut a deal and I would take care of it.”

Peter wasn’t stupid, he could tell something was off. It almost felt like maybe May was lying to him but she spoke with conviction and a hint of desperation.

“I can’t let you do that-“ He argued.

“Please, Peter. Just let me do this?” He gulped with anxiety at the look on her face, haunted in a way he hadn’t seen since Uncle Ben...since...

He found himself nodding reluctantly. 

—

It took four days for Tony Stark to visit him. He doesn’t come over until May has already left for work on a Saturday morning.

It was intensely awkward, as he walked into the apartment and they shared very few words as they both sat down to....talk? Peter was still recovering from the whole passing out thing, he was too mentally worn out to know what the man wanted.

“I came to apologize.” He said softly when Peter asked if he wanted something to drink. Peter hovered awkwardly by the doorway. “I know it’s not worth much but I’m sorry. For the way I treated you.” 

He looked so sincere it made Peter stare at him blankly in shock. “It’s nnnot- it’s not your f-fault.” He said instead of asking why the fuck he was bothering to apologize to him when he didn’t care about him last week.

“It is, partially.” The man admitted. “I was cruel to you. I thought you deserved it, after the whole....and I was mad. For a long time, I was so mad that some random kid had almost managed to ruin my career. I felt idiotic and....so I made fun of you. That wasn’t right. I’m not a bully, I never have been and I’m ashamed of how I treated your stutter.”

Peter blushed bright red at the mention of his stutter, arms crossing defensively over his chest. 

“I-I it’s fine, I p-promise,” He said and he realized, he meant it this time. Maybe he was just so emotionally exhausted that he couldn’t take staying mad at anyone. “It- it was mean but I d-did something baaad- and I, I deserved it.”

Tony’s eyebrows knitted together and Peter watched as the man gulped. “You didn’t deserve that. No one deserves that. It was mean and insensitive and you have a beautiful voice.” 

Peter felt himself get hot, his flush spreading down to his neck and he coughed to cover you the sudden awkwardness on his part.

“T-thank you, That is-is kind.” He said in disbelief.

Tony nodded and looked him in the eye. “I’ve come here to....cut you loose, so to speak. You don’t have to pull this front for me anymore, we’ll stop the whole fake relationship thing immediately.” He said quickly and Peter opened his mouth to protest because no, he had done wrong and the least he could do was fix things.

“I- that’s, n-no! I did w-wrong and I’m the the reason we’re in this mess!” He said in a distressed voice because the last thing he needed was more guilt on his conscience.

“I’m worried about you, kid.” Tony admitted. “Your livelihood is more important than me not getting in trouble. Besides, the tabloids will love me getting dumped by a college student. They’ll eat that up.” He laughed wryly but Peter clenched his fists tightly.

“With a-all due respect, Sir, it’s-it’s not your j-job to worry about me.” He crossed his arms just to have somewhere to put his hands and glared at the other man.

Tony looked shocked. “But I’m still going to, Peter. I saw you, saw that you weren’t...” Peter gave him a warning look. “That you weren’t doing well and I ignored it because I was feeling vindictive and angry. I’m sorry for that.”

Peter nearly deflated at the look on Mr. Starks face, as distraught as he seemed. But no.

Absolutely not.

“I want to c-continue. Because I maaade a mistake and, and I want t-to fix it. Please, let me fix it.”

Tony hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “Let me pay you then.” He said.

Peter tensed up immediately, “I don’t n-need charity, sir-“

Tony interrupted as quickly as possible. “If you’re going to spend that much time with me, I want you to be getting something out of it. Just let me pay you a little?” He asked and it definitely sounded like he was fishing.

Peter sighed uneasily and clenched his fists. “Minimum wa-wage. No higher, alright? I’ll be v-very upseeet if it’s any higher.” 

Tony nodded quickly in agreement, his face relaxing in abrupt relief. 

—

They planned their next “date” a week later. Peter was both shocked and happy that May didn’t argue with him too much about it. She seemed to understand that the whole thing was important to him.

He was actually entirely shocked that the tabloids hadn’t picked up on his hospital stay but he thought maybe Tony had had something to do with that. Possibly he had connections at the hospital or he had bribed someone....the idea that he would bribe someone to keep silent about Peter was.....disconcerting. 

Peter was feeling okay. He still felt guilty and down most of the time but he was living and that’s what was important.

He had already seen Dr. Renald once, just a ‘get to know one another’ session, as she called it.

She was easy going and had a friendly face, was maybe in her 40s, and didn’t make Peter feel like she was treating him like a suicidal patient. He hadn’t been out on any medication yet and he was unsure if he wanted to go down that road again. They’d just have to discuss it, he figured.

He was still struggling with sleep, his first week back had been hectic even while he was staying with Aunt May. He had finals week and the testing was gruesome. Tony had even sent him a text to wish him luck and it had felt oddly nice, to see someone be so kind randomly. 

But he had yet to receive his final grades. To say he was terrified of failing was an understatement. Spending that much money, just to fail? Peter would be devastated.

Still, He knew he needed to not focus on the looming threat for the moment because he had other things to worry about.

Like this fake date with Tony, for example. Peter hadn’t gone back to work yet and he honestly wasn’t sure if he still had a job but....Tony had offered to pay him and it was minimum wage so that was helpful at the very least. He’d been able to put some money toward school and possibly swing for some new school supplies.

But he really was nervous for some stupid reason. They were just doing their whole eating in public, touch each other’s hands thing but....maybe it was because Peter had yet to have been in a situation where they weren’t at each other’s throats. And now they semi got along so. It was weird. What would they even talk about?

Peter had gotten better about eating since they’d gotten back. He knew he’d have to talk to Dr. Renald about that whole stint eventually but even he had a hard time understanding it. Peter knew he didn’t have an eating disorder but he also knew some part of him was punishing himself by not eating. Then again, there were also time when he was just so genuinely busy, he’d forgotten to take care of himself.

He did that a lot these days. 

He still felt immense guilt even looking at Tony. Or looking at May. Or Ned. Or literally anyone he’d fucked over in the past month. Peter was certainly not doing himself anything favors by emotionally laboring over it.

So, he readied himself for their date and dressed in some of the clothing he’d already been given by Tony...or well, by Pepper. Whatever.

—

When Tony picked him up later that night, he was a lot of friendlier than usual.

He even complimented Peter’s outfit and the boy refrained from mentioning that he definitely hadn’t picked it out. Pepper had.

Tony was being nice and.....it was immensely awkward. Like ridiculous levels of awkward.

It’s like they didn’t know how to talk to one another without fighting.

They arrived at the restaurant and the conversation was stilted and uncomfortable. It was some Italian place and Tony insisted that Peter order whatever he wanted with a steely look in his eye. Peter felt a wave of guilt just looking at him.

Tony cleared his throat as Peter drank from his water glass.

“So um.....how’s your aunt?” He asked in a stiff voice. Peter’s eyes narrowed just slightly.

“She’s.....good,” He replied skeptically. “You’re not gonna like, hit on-on her are you? Bbbecause I gotta say, e-even if she knows this isn’t....real, I’m super not oookay with-“

Tony couldn’t contain his laugh and Peter pouted at him. 

“I’m not trying to sleep with your aunt, kid.” He said simply, a grin stretching handsomely across his face. “You don’t have to worry about that....just trying to....make conversation.”

“W-why?” Peter asked seriously. “You....you kind of hate me so like why do-“

“I don’t hate you.” Well that was news to Peter. The indignant shock must have shown on his face. “Well...I mean, I wasn’t fond of you before. But....I definitely never really hated you.”

Peter made a hmm noise, as if he didn’t agree but couldn’t voice it.

Tony rolled his eyes in a move that looked oddly fond. “I don’t think anyone can really hate you, Parker.” He said with a snort of amusement.

Peter only felt more confused and left out.

“What do-does that even mean?” He asked disconcertedly which Tony drank from his wine glass.

“It means you’re annoyingly likeable. There’s something....innocently sweet about you.” 

Peter’s face flushed red and he felt a small glare take over his face (NOT a pout, thank you very much.) as he pondered the mans answer.

“I don’t t-think people really liiiike m-me.” He said with a frown. “Also, I’m-I’m not Innocent! So-so that’s not...it’s not t-true.” 

He was definitely pouting and Tony was just quietly staring at him across the table, eyes noticeably amused in a way that made Peter turn even redder. He wasn’t used to people just staring at him.

“Okay, you’re a big boy now. I get it. No need to defend yourself.” He teased Peter and the boy found himself trying to not smile back at the man. He was weirdly indignant feeling and giddy all at once.

“I wasn’t- wasn’t defending m-myself.” He lied. And then he had a thought that would wipe the smug smile off Tony’s face for sure. “I’m not e-even a virgin, like t-three times over so. Take that.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up and he only looked more amused.

“You turn really red when you’re embarrassed, you know.” He said softly and Peter let out a groan of mortification, hands coming up to cover his face.

“No, really. It’s very cute, you look like a little tomato.” Tony kept going and Peter succumbed to his embarrassment, planting his face firmly on the table.

“Do compliments embarrass you?” Tony asked like he’d just discovered a juicy secret. He sounded positively delighted. “That’s just....you keep getting better, Peter.”

The boy looked up as the older man chuckled and Peter couldn’t help but glare at him halfheartedly.

“I-I don’t- people don’t call me c-cute.” He admitted as he wrung his hands in his lap. “My whole s-s-stutter and just....like m-my personaaaality, kinda turns people o-off.”

He refused to look at Tony. He didn’t want to see any kind of pity in the mans eyes.

“Hmm....I think maybe people think more highly of you than you realize.” Tony said simply and Peter was once again confused by the tone of voice. He said it almost begrudgingly.

“W-what do you m-mean?” He asked and when he looked at Tony, the older man wasn’t looking at him but off to the side. Peter followed his line of sight and squeaked when he made awkward eye contact with their waiter.

He was probably in his early twenties with sandy blond hair and a smirk aimed right in Peter’s direction.

He gulped, averting his eyes quickly.

“Yea, I was wondering when you were gonna notice that our waiter keeps undressing you with his eyes.” Tony grumbled and Peter thought he sounded upset. Which was odd....

Oh. Right. They had to keep up an appearance. Before he could stop himself, Peter surged up and leaned carefully across the small table, careful to avoid their drinks. 

He pressed his lips softly into Tony’s and hoped the other man wouldn’t make this look too stilted.

He froze in surprise for a split second before he sighed against Peter’s mouth and brought a hand up to grip softly in his hair. 

Their mouths moved in synch and Peter felt his blood pump harder, a dizzying feeling washing over his body when he felt Tony’s tongue slide across his upper lip. He let out the tiniest whine and the hand in his hair gripped a little more firmly. He was gripping the table top hard and his back hurt from the angle he was bending in but all he could focus on was the way Tony pushed his tongue into his mouth, soft and searching and unyielding in a way that had Peter’s toes curling in his expensive loafers.

A cough sounded from the side of their table and Peter pulled back quickly, face flushing dark red as he took in the agitated face of their waiter.

He wiped a hand across his mouth and sat back down heavily, avoiding everyone’s eyes as the waiter asked for their orders. He wasn’t outright rude but he definitely wasn’t polite either.

When he left, Peter couldn’t help but notice the oddly smug look on Tony’s face.


	3. Settling In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a long time D: sorry guys, I’ve been super busy.
> 
> Peter cries some more in this because he is a Very Emotional Boy because honestly same.
> 
> Warning: in depth panic attack, eating disorder ish talk? Sort of?

"I wasn't tr-trying to, like....starve myself. I g-guess I just felt like, um-um-"

"Like you weren't worthy of the bare necessities?" Dr. Renalds stole the words right out of Peters mouth. "Or do you still feel that way?"

It was midday, the bright sunlight streamed through sheets curtains hung at every window in the office. Peter felt warm and tired, a common occurrence during his therapy. Now, though, he felt a bit more alert. 

Peter thought about it for a second, his fingertips digging into the stylish sofas arm enough that he was surely leaving indents. His heart began to thunder the tiniest bit, a sure sign he was stressing himself out. Thinking too hard, surely.

"I mean- n-no! I would- I would n-never do that to Aunt May again- or, or even T-tony!" He was adamant, face scrunching up as he shook his head. Sure, he still felt pretty undeserving of everyone's worry but..he knew better than to pull a stunt like that again. It wasn't fair to May and he knew that.

The doctors eyebrows rose slightly at the offhand mention of Tony but she didn't make a comment, thank God.

"What I'm hearing here is that you wouldn't stop taking care of yourself because it would hurt the people close to you," Peter chose to ignore the tone her voice took on the last part. "And that's a valid reason. In fact, it keeps a lot of people from....harming themselves. But you should also get to the point where you allow yourself these necessities because you deserve them, Peter. Not out of an admission of guilt but because you're a human being and you deserve to be happy, or at the very least you deserve the basic things that keep you alive. You shouldn't be punishing yourself offhandedly, I know you know that but I don't think you're convinced of it fully yet."

Peter bit his lip and lowered his head in shame, feeling called out as he stared at the dark blue carpet of Dr. Renalds office.

"I just- I just feel a-ashamed and....guilty...all t-the time," He admitted quietly, eyes still drawn to the floor.

"Peter," Dr. Renalds said in a soft tone that automatically had Peter tensing up. "You don't have to tell me but....what happened in your past that you feel such a strong sense of guilt?"

He immediately shook his head rapidly, his heartbeat picking up just the slightest tick. But...but she had said...

"I-I'd rather nooot talk ab-bout it, if that's o-ookay," He said with forced calm. No, he didn't want to delve into the deeper parts of his psyche, at least not today.

"That's perfectly fine," She said, settling back into her armchair. If she was disappointed, her face didn't show it. "But know that I'm one call away if you need to talk about anything. You're not in danger, are you?"

The question struck Peter as odd because....no, he wasn't. Not really. But was that true? How long would it take for Robbie to come calling again now that he knew Peter was dating Tony Stark? Surely not that long. And what was Peter supposed to do about that? Did he tell Tony or May or anyone else?

"Peter?"

Oh right. The boy shook himself lightly and pasted a strained smile onto his face. 

"N-no, everythingg is ffiine."

—

Peter sat stiffly on Aunt Mays weathered couch, tensely avoiding eye contact with his Aunt in the least subtle way he could manage.

"How was your meeting with Dr. Renalds?" She has asked softly and...Peter didn't want to make her feel bad but he didn't exactly want to talk about it. Not that he had even made any major breakthroughs but...it felt weirdly personal and Peter wasn't really great with talking about his feelings. That was pretty much a pattern at this point, wasn't it?

And anyway, he'd spent the week filled with anxiety. For one thing, Tony hadn't texted him for five days which was....it was fine. It didn't bother Peter. He just knew that they had a "date" coming up soon and he found it a little odd that the older man hadn't even tried to contact him since...since their...last date. Peter tried hard not to think about their kiss because if he thought about it, he'd surely lose his mind.

But he also knew his grades would be posted soon and he knew damn well that they probably weren't going to be his best. If he even passed at all but- no. He had to stop having these intrusive, negative thoughts. Renalds has told him repeatedly to not let his negative thoughts influence his actions too much because then they wind up influencing his mood and from there on it's a downward spiral and Peter kind of just got out of a downward spiral, specifically in his personal life. He doesn't need to add school to the list and-

"Peter?" He heard May ask in an even softer, more cautious voice. His gaze snapped to hers, guilt clouding him once again over his wandering thoughts.

"It was...it was good," He admitted. Because it had been good. He might have...well, he hadn't lied to his doctor about anything. He'd simply said that he didn't want to talk about it right now. Which was a valid choice. "We um- uh, s-she's very kind."

He found that he meant the words honestly. Dr. Renalds really was an incredibly kind, soft spoken person and maybe that's what Peter needed. Her advice was no-nonsense but she never spoke down to him. It made Peter feel better, to not be treated as a young adult but more as an equal.

"That's good," May smiled then, a calmer look settling over her. "What do you...what do you talk about?"

She caught herself a few seconds too late, her expression caught in a look of shock. Peter felt his own face turn red, embarrassment warring with a discomfort for confrontation.

"I didn't- I didn't mean! You don't have to tell me, obviously," May rushed to say, holding her hands up placatingly as Peter tried not to cringe. "I wasn't thinking when I said-"

"It-it-it's fine, Aunt May," Peter chuckled awkwardly and ran a hand through his hair. He ignored the way his Aunts eyes strayed to the exposed scars on his arms. "I wasn't o-offended, promise. Besides, y-you pay foooor it."

Maybe not the best joke to make.

She worried her lower lip, eyebrows still slanted with worry. 

"That isn't- Peter, you don't have to confide in me just because I- and anyway, I don't ever want you to feel like you owe me or anyone else anything for....acts of kindness, okay?" 

The way she asked it had Peter squinting curiously because....May looked guilty. But somehow Peter knew it wasn't guilt for offending him. It was....something else.

Plus, she had said- "An-anyone else?" Peter asked, voice level so he didn't show his suspicion. "What do you m-mean?"

He hadn't expected Aunt Mays face to go a little pale or for her to look so frightened. That was more than a bit worrying.

But his Aunt shrugged it off with an awkwardly placed chuckle and waved a hand in the air dismissively.

"I just meant in general, sweetie," She laughed. "Just remember that some times people do nice things for others and...and that's okay. That's a good thing."

Peters eyes narrowed even more but he knew a closed subject when he saw one. He'd have to interrogate his Aunts weird behavior at another time.

—

Peter sat uncomfortably straight, the blazer on his shoulders tight enough that it kept him from moving too much. God, is this really how rich people lived? In clothing you can't even move in?

He heard a snicker from across the table and shot a glare at the older man.

Tony only smiled back with mirth in his eyes as he glanced up from his own menu.

"You know you can take the blazer off, right? You look a little....stiff," He bit his lip to hide another chuckle at Peters expense.

Peter shrugged out of the offending garment, even it's dark blue color was pretty. It was a hell garment.

"Well, I wouldn't call it that. That seems a bit mean." Tony joked as Peter settled back in his chair, much more comfortable now in his white button up.

He hadn't realized he'd spoken outloud. He would have been more embarrassed if he wasn't so moody today.

He huffed and glared at the older man, much to his amusement. "Y-you're the one who-who g-gave it to me," He didn't wince at his stutter for once, his mood just a little too sour to care. He wasn't really mad or anything, he'd just had a not so great morning. He was more than a little tired and stressed and this 'date' hadn't been planned in advance.

To his relief, after his little snipe, Tony's smile became a little less wide but still genuinely amused. Softer.

"Next time I'll have you sized and fitted for whatever you want. It'll fit like like a glove, promise," He said, voice low but level. Peter felt his face glow bright, abruptly too aware of the tiny table between them and the way their knees kept brushing every time they moved. What restaurant even had such small tables?

Peter awkwardly cleared his throat as Tony continued to look at him.

Something about the concentrated look in Tony's dark eyes made Peter squirm in his seat, a liquid hot feeling filling his belly up to the brim. He felt nervous suddenly, his bad mood forgotten as he gulped dumbly at the older man and looked back down at his menu.

"That's- that's uh, um- well, uh- that's n-nice of yooouu," His face only burned redder at all his stuttering because god, he was such a fucking embarrassment. He chose to stare at the tablecloth, intensely focused on the pattern of it. He didn't want to look at Tony, didn't want to see annoyance on his face as he struggled to form simple sentences.

But when Peter gathered to courage to finally look up (after taking a few deep breaths) Tony wasn't looking at him. He was looking just past Peters shoulder, an indiscernible look in his eye.

He stretched a hand across the table for Peter, "Would you hold my hand, Pete?" He asked quietly, finally looking away from whatever he had been fixated on.

Peter gulped and stretched his hand across the table, sliding it palm to palm with Tony's. He chose to ignore the sparking feeling he felt throughout his body because- well, Peter was just ignoring it. So what? He didn't get a lot of physical affection from people.

Tony laced their fingers together and used his thumb to pet along the back of Peters hand, much smaller in the older mans calloused one.

Peter couldn't look away from the way their hands were pressed together. Tan skin against paler skin, young and soft against older and work-weathered. His heart thumped hard in his chest and he struggled to not gasp or make any kind of strange noises.

"Look at me," Tony whispered. So Peter listened, like a magnet his eyes raised to Tony's and...

God, Peter was going to have a heartattack today surely. The older man looked at him with hooded eyes full of....full of some sort of affection that Peter wasn't used to and- and he smiled at him with a soft gaze that was too painful for Peter to endure. 

He gulped but couldn't look away. 

"Smile for me, sweetheart," Tony whispered again, his smile spreading the tiniest bit.

Really, Peter knew he meant 'smile for the cameras' because he had to have spotted a paparazzo earlier but...it somehow didn't make his heart slow down any. Being called sweetheart certainly didn't help. 

Peter felt a smile slide onto his face, his cheeks surely red as he bit his lip and gazed down shyly, squeezing Tony's hand in his own. The older man squeezed back and Peter bit back a gasp.

He felt Tony lean across the small table just the tiniest bit and a hand lifted Peter chin up. God, he didn't know if he could keep looking the other man head on if he kept looking at Peter like....like that.

Tony's thumb pressed into his chin, brushing over his skin in tiny sweeps that made Peters mouth fall open slightly.

"You're so beautiful," Tony said, seemingly entranced. Peter did gasp then, unable to keep his reaction inside because that wasn't- that was- he wasn't beautiful, people didn't say that. No. That wasn't- 

"You really are," Tony insisted, his thumb swept over Peters bottom lip. "You look just like an angel."

Peter realized with horrible clarity that he was incredibly hard in his slacks. Like, leaking through the material hard. In his expensive fucking slacks that Tony bought. Oh god. Tony bought them and Peter was probably ruining them and why would that turn him on? Why was that doing it for him? Why wasn't he humiliated or at least worried about the gaze of other patrons? Or the literal cameras he knew had to be right outside the window Tony had been staring out of?

One look at the older man told him why he wasn't bothered.

His mouth fell open a little more and he let his eyes clench shut as he desperately tried to calm himself down. His heart felt like a snare drum, beating restlessly against his rib cage. 

Unbidden to him, some idiotic part of his body decided to flick his tongue out, tasting skin that wasn't his own. Tony's skin. He kept his eyes clenched with mortification, expecting the older man to finally pull away in horror but...but he didn't at all.

Peter felt the thumb push slightly at the seam of his mouth and just like that, the digit rested heavily against his tongue and holy shit, Peter wasn't responsible for the noise he made in response. He reacted out of sheer instinct, eyes still shut. He sucked softly at the digit, lapping his tongue in tiny waves around the pad of the thumb. He leaned forward to get more, his other hand squeezing at the one Tony still held. The older mans grip had suddenly gone slack.

Peter chanced opening his eyes, lids heavy as he gazed at the other man leaning heavily against his side of the table. His face looked shell-shocked and he let out a shaky sounding noise before he wrapped his other fingers around Peters jaw and slid him thumb forward, anchoring just behind his bottom teeth until the boys mouth popped open lewdly.he struggled to swallow against the way his jaw was being held open. Surely, this looked ridiculous. Surely Peter would come to his senses soon.

But no, what ever little sense the boy had left resided in the heavy erection pressing against his zipper. Peter was so fucking turned on he thought he might combust.

Tony let his thumb slide out, slick with spit as it pulled Peters bottom lip down obscenely. Peter let out a noise, a thin whine that was almost imperceptible. He watched as Tony seemingly flinched in response.

"That was, um-" Tony began to stutter, clearly lost for words. Peter gulped, ready to apologize as best as he could for....whatever that was.

He was interrupted by the soft clearing of a throat and both of their eyes darted to the poor waitress by their table, a mousy girl whose face looked red enough to imitate a tomato.

"Um, sorry Mr. Stark, sir. Are you ready to order or do you need more time?"

Peter slumped back into his seat, the tension fading just like that.

—

The waitress sells the story because of course she does, who wouldn't? Ironically this restaurant was one of the only ones that didn't have strict NDAs for their workers.

Plus, it wouldn't have mattered considering there's actual photo evidence of Peter performing fellatio on Tony Stark's actual fucking thumb.

And really, how he didn't think that would happen is beyond him. He hadn't even thought about it on the excruciating ride home just yesterday. No, he hadn't been thinking about the consequences. He had only been thinking about the very thin sliver of restraint he had to hold onto to keep himself from climbing into Tony's lap while he sat next to him, awkward and stiff in the back of his car.

They hadn't talked, they hadn't even looked at each other and they definitely hadn't been in contact over the past 24 hours.

Peter had completely forgotten about the paparazzi that were present just outside the very clear, open windows of the restaurant. Shit, between being horny and realizing his belated attraction to Tony Stark, Peter didn't even think about it when he went to bed that night. No, he had taken a hot shower, jerking himself rough and fast as he painted the wet wall with his cum.

He had thought about Tony, standing behind him. He'd imagined his toned arms wrapped around his body, one hand cupping his jaw, spearing his mouth with three solid fingers this time. Peter had barely been able to contain his cry as he came hard enough that he saw stars. He'd felt quite of shame as he washed the remains of his release from the wall but he'd been tired enough that he'd just pushed his inevitable mental breakdown until morning.

Which was apparently a very bad idea, considering he had been woken up at about 6 am by his phone ringing incessantly. He had expected to hear from Tony or maybe even....

Anyway, it was Pepper Potts. And she wasn't happy.

—

"I tell you to not over-do the PDA and now I have front page photos of a barely legal college student sucking on your fingers like a toddler," Pepper berated, voice thin and clipped as she smacked a trashy gossip mag onto the table in front of them.

The scene would have been funny had Peter not been figuratively pissing himself in front of the enraged woman.

He and Tony hadn't even looked at each other when they came in, both too shell shocked at having been woken so early to such awful news. And Peppers call hadn't exactly been friendly. 

The photos were everywhere, there was probably some gross twitter trend, and Peter could feel the panic already building up inside his chest. They'd already done exactly what they'd been told not to do. Great.

"I'm-I'm not a t-toddler," Peter said quietly, unable to keep the sentence inside. He saw Tony wince from the corner of his eye, probably preying for Peters future existence, honestly.

Pepper turned fiery eyes on him. 

"I don't give a shit what you are, Parker. You're a college student who got caught being fondled by an old man. People were just accepting that the two of you are even dating and now my pr team has to try and clean up this mess."

Peter felt his face flush bright and dropped his gaze to his hands twisting tirelessly in his lap. This was already too much for him right now, the early morning and the berating and....steady breaths. He was fine. He would be alright. It didn't help that he was being coldly thrown into reality after what had happened last night. After what he'd idiotically done to a man he wasn't even involved with. A man who wasn't even interested in him. Peter had no idea how things had escalated so fast, too caught up in the drama of his own mind.

"Peps-" Tony began but was broken off by an angry noise as his CEO paced behind the conference room table. "It- we were just drunk and thought it'd be a funny joke-" Peter tried not to flinch at how untrue that was. It wasn't a funny joke. "You don't have to print that Peter was drinking, obviously. But you can tell everyone I was. They know I like an afternoon drink every now and again and...Just say things got out of hand and we didn't realize we were being watched."

She glared at Tony tiredly, "That could probably work," She admitted before sighing. And of course she would say that, of course she wouldn't even be suspicious of their actions. She took Tony's lie at face value because why would he went to be seen doing something like that with Peter? His thoughts kept spiraling downward as he shrunk further into his chair. 

"It should die down within the week. Just...no dates until after, please. No being seen together until the Gala and....whatever you do, don't go online."

Right because they'd probably be saying awful things. About Tony being an old man and they'd probably use horrible words like cradle robber and pedophile. And...and that would be Peters fault, wouldn't it? Because it WAS all his fault, he'd started this whole ridiculous thing and he couldn't even manage to not act like a complete baby in all of it. Why would Tony Stark show him interest if he couldn't even keep his emotions in check and since when had he began to even care what Tony thought of him? A few days ago he hadn't cared at all.

Tony almost breathed a sigh of relief but Peter could tell he was holding it in. Peter didn't feel an ounce of relief himself, too caught up in his burgeoning anxiety to pay too much attention.

"I know the drill, Ms. Potts. I definitely won't screw up like this again, I promise." Peter didn't look up to see them exchange a smile because it abruptly hit him that he was watching an exchange between exes and that was just the cherry on top of the whole bad fucking day, wasn't it?

Pepper Potts was a CEO and all around badass who had just publicly called Peter a toddler and he couldn't even defend himself like an adult. She was certainly everything Peter wasn't. Which....yeah, who knew that of all things would bother him?

"Sure you won't. I have to get going but I expect a call from you later this week, Tony." Pepper joked back drily before Peter heard the door close behind her as she rushed away.

He didn't look up even as he heard Tony sigh with relief or when he felt the other man slump in his chair. Peters heart beat sluggishly in his chest, his cheeks felt hot with shame as it gathered in his belly and twisted his organs unforgivably. Stupid, young, reckless. God, he was such a fucking idiot. To think he had been putting the moves on Tony just last night and now he couldn't even look at the man, too consumed by his own guilt for having screwed everything up so badly. Why had he thought things would be okay? Was he so blinded by lust that he couldn't even remember the way Tony completely avoided him after last nights events? He'd been so happy to deliver Peter home, to finally get rid of him.

He felt tears prick his eyes but kept them wide open as he stared at the tabletop in front of him. 

"Pete?" He didn't look at Tony, too consumed by the way his heartbeat was climbing and how much harder it was getting to keep from gasping for air. His lungs felt tight, like they weren't big enough to take in the air he needed. He knew exactly what was happening but didn't know how to stop it. "Pete, are you okay? What's going on?"

He felt hands at his shoulders, turning his body like he weighed nothing and lifting his chin in turn. Peter gazed up at Tony's worried face, blurred by the thick fluid coating Peters own eyes as tried his hardest to keep them wide open. Oh god, he was going to start crying again. Amazing, how fucking embarrassing. He couldn't get enough air in, tiny wheezing noises emerging from his throat as his chest lifted repeatedly but it wasn't working. It wasn't working, surely he'd suffocate and wouldn't that be a hilarious death? Peter Parker dies of anxiety in the Stark Tower because Pepper Potts called him a baby.

"Honey, you're having a panic attack," He heard Tony say as his vision swam with tears. The man was so blurry now Peter couldn't make his features out, he looked warped and strange. His fingers felt numb and his mouth felt unreal, like his teeth didn't belong in his body, like his tongue was useless and heavy. He felt his mouth gaping, a torturous imitation of his lackluster seduction techniques of the night before. But there was no sex appeal to this, just the humiliation of someone losing their mind in public. 

"It's okay, Pete. You're gonna be okay," He heard Tony say and he felt the man pet a hand over his cold face, brushing hair from his eyes.

The dam broke.

Peter felt the tears rush down his face, a sharp noise tearing from his throat as he gasped loudly and wow, this was going to be embarrassing later. His hands clung to the first thing in front of him, Tony's wrists. He gripped them tightly as he sobbed uncontrollably, the last few hours of emotions pouring from his body in torrential waves. He felt heavy and light all at once as it washed over him.

He was vaguely aware of words spilling unbidden from his mouth, "I-I-I s-screwed u-up agaaain, I'm-I'm- so sorry, so sorry- I didn't- p-please- I'm s-s-suuuch an I-idiot-"

The stuttering made him cry harder, frustration at the fact that he couldn't even express himself freely. He let go of Tony and pressed his own fists into his eye sockets, pushing to try and stem the flow of tears but he knew it wasn't working. He probably just looked crazy.

"Shh, shh, no. None of that," Tony took his wrists this time, they were weak enough that he wrestled Pete's hands into his grasp and pulled the boy forward until he collapsed into Tony's arms. His face was buried in the mans chest, surely staining the expensive fabric of his dress shirt.

"I'm-I'm acting l-like a baby-" He felt Tony tense at that. "I-I'm so s-sorry I k-keep freaking ou-ouuuut all the time," He wept wetly into Tony's chest as the man circled strong arms around him, squeezing but not restricting his body. Peter felt a hand smooth through his hair, a comforting gesture as the sobbing began to thin out. They sat for silent minutes as he wept.

"You're not a baby, Pete," Tony whispered as he stroked his curls and Peter could feel his hands prickling as he clutched at Tony's shirt with clawed fingers. He could feel his breathing being to slow and even out. "I promise no one really thinks that, I don't think that at all. Things got...out of hand, alright? That's okay, it isn't the end of the world and now we just have to wait for it to roll over, okay?"

His voice was so gentle that Peters sobbing halted, finally thinning out as his body shivered in the mans arms. He felt drained and tired suddenly, like his body weighed infinitely more than it had before. He felt so weird, weirder than he usually did after a panic attack. Almost like he didn't want to leave the circle of the older mans arms. It was so comforting there, surrounded by protection and-

Peter pulled back abruptly, probably a little too fast considering the mildly shocked look on Tony's face.

He cleared his throat awkwardly and scrubbed at his cheeks, avoiding eye contact as he tried to right himself after having such a horrendous breakdown.

"I-I know," He mumbled, biting his bottom lip as he gripped his own hands, already missing the feel of Tony's silky shirt. "I just- I-i feel so bad and- and- I keep s-s-screwing u-up and I um, I am s-soo sor-sorry and now I-i w-won't get to seeee you-" He hadn't meant to say the last part, hadn't meant to squeak it out at all. 

Last week he had been dreading their dates. So what exactly had changed? Peter felt dizzy with confusion and it reflected on Tony's own face.

"You...you want to see me?" He asked quietly and Peter his face burn. Of course he'd latch onto that part.

Peter shrugged awkwardly, wiping more tears from his face as he hunched in his chair.

"I-I- mean I- yes, yeah. I do. Want to, t-that is." He admitted quietly, completely unwilling to elaborate further but also too mentally drained to protect himself from potential embarrassment. "I'm- I'm just s-sooo tired and and I f-feel l-lonely b-but I'll be fiiine-"

"Come take a nap in my quarters," Tony blurted, face going a little red as Peter gazed at his sudden outburst of an interruption. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I mean, you just....Jesus, kid. Stop looking like a sad puppy, I don't think my heart can take it."

Peter blinked owlishly at him, eyes tired and raw feeling as he gazed confusedly at the older man.

"I-what?" He asked, eyebrows knitting together. "I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Tony cut him off again, "Okay, that's enough apologizing. Look at me," Peter gazed at him as the man leveled him a stern stare. "You're gonna come up to my quarters and take a nice long nap in my guest room. I'll wake you up when I see fit and you'll end dinner. Understand?"

Peter couldn't breathe for a completely different reason then. He clenched his teeth and nodded dumbly at the older man, feeling all at once confused and oddly taken care of. Like his night had been decided for him and Peter should have felt irked by that but.....he mostly just felt thankful that someone else was making his decisions for him.

"Alright," Tony gave him a small, warm smile. "Follow behind me and I'll make sure no one bothers you, alright?"

The blush returned to his face and Peter nodded obediently before following Tony out of the conference room.

—

The room wasn't as big as he had thought it would be, thankfully. It was simple and neutral colored. The bed was ridiculously comfortable, of course and Peter had fallen asleep within moments of his head touching the fluffy pillow top.

"It is time to wake up, Mr. Parker."

Peter startled awake as a voice sounded off into the room, the accent sound vaguely Irish? Or Scottish? He wasn't sure. But it certainly wasn't coming from a human.

He blinked blearily at his surroundings, slowly taking in the darkness that loomed outside the tall windows to his left. He must have slept most of the day away and oh god, he'd need to let May know where he was, he should probably call her soon-

"Dinner will be served in approximately five minutes, Mr. Parker. Tony has sent for you. But you should probably put a shirt on first."

Oh right. Disembodied voice. Cool.

"Uh-uh is um...are y-you a uh-"

"I am an AI, of sorts. Yes. I work for Mr. Stark, my name is Friday." The voice spoke warmly and Peter shook his head to dispel any left over fuzz. Of course Tony had an AI, why wouldn't he? 

"C-cool, That is- that's so neat!" He spoke sincerely, unsure of intelligent computers appreciated compliments or not.  "Y-you can um, call meee Peter."

"That's nice of you, Peter." Friday said and her voice sounded...kind of amused. "Dinner?" She asked prompting.

Peter jolted out of bed in his haste, just now remembering what he was supposed to be doing. Dinner with Tony. Right. He could do this, it would be fine. If he could just find his shirt.....it had to be somewhere around the room; he vaguely remembered flinging it off in his rush to finally get some decent sleep.

"You alright there?" 

Peter whipped around, a startled yelp leaving his mouth as he saw Tony leaning against the door frame, hands jammed into his jean pockets and an amused smile on his face.

Peter felt his face heat, an increasingly common ailment that seemed to be happening lately around the older man.

He crossed his arms in order to try and cover some of his body because Tony's eyes were roaming freely over Peters chest and it was making the boy feel....increasingly weird.

"I was- I was looking f-for my shirt," He said, shuffling around awkwardly to the other side of the bed where he found the offending garment and bent down to pick it up. 

"You're awfully built for a nerdy college student," Tony said as Peter slipped his shirt on over his head. And thank god, too. He didn't have to see the wide eyed look on Peters face.

"I-well, I do a-a lot of cardio and um, w-weightlifting, used to d-do gymnasticsss too," He admitted as he stood stiffly across the room, shirt now safely back in place. The compliment wasn't lost on him but he was having trouble processing the fact that Tony Stark had just called him 'built'.

"Why'd you stop?" The older man asked curiously, making no moves away from the doorway. 

"I, um-" Peter began shyly. "C-couldn't afford th-the gym I w-went to. I s-still do fli-iiips when I c-can but I'm not a-as flexible as I u-used to be."

He almost facepalmed as the words spilled unbidden from his lips because wow. Maybe Tony would miss the possible innuendo there.

The man stared at him with the straightest face possible.

"I'm sure you're still plenty flexible," He said, eyes glinting in the low light. Peter stopped breathing for a whole five seconds. Surely he'd burn at the rate that his face was heating. He wanted to shout 'Hey, come find out!' But even he knew his own limits.

"If you ever want to use my gym to get back into it, you can. We've got loads of different equipment." He moved on like it was nothing, finally stepping back from the doorframe as he gestured for Peter to follow.

Peter gulped and walked after him, shuffling along uncomfortably. He still couldn't get past the flexible comment. Who even said stuff like that and then acted like it didn't happen?

Tony Stark apparently.

They entered the kitchen and Peters thoughts were temporarily derailed by the sight in front of him. There was just.....so much food. His belly growled unforgivingly, reminding him of just how little he'd eaten in the past few days. 

Tony frowned at the noise, loud enough to be heard in the otherwise silent dining room. 

"Let's sit down," He suggested gently and Peter sighed in relief as he sat before a plate pulled high with potatoes and chicken. He couldn't afford food like this, hot and made fresh and it'd been so long since he'd eaten something that wasn't made in a microwave.

He dug in immediately, forgetting that he was possibly being rude but wow, he really needed to learn how to cook better. Aunt May wasn't the worlds best cook but bless her she did try. And Peter knew how to make cup ramen and that was about it,

"Have you....have you been eating?" Tony asked cautiously as Peter struggled to swallow around the food in his mouth, suddenly aware of how rude he was being.

"Oh-" He cleared his throat and took a hefty sip of water. "I'm-I'm sorry, sir. Y-yes, w-why do you ask?"

Tony leveled him with a look that made his face burn hotter. He slowed his eating to a full stop, immediately feeling awkward. Oh right, he'd almost starved himself not too long ago.

"I-I haven't been- I've b-been eating, I pr-promiiise. Just....n-not good at cooking. P-plus f-food is expensive," He bit his lip to keep from fidgeting too much.

"Have you not gone grocery shopping with the money I've given you yet?" Tony didn't ask rudely, just curious and maybe a bit worried. Peter took another sip of water, clearing his throat uncomfortably. He hated talking about money.

"It-It mostly g-goes to rent and-and school s-stuff," He admitted sheepishly because it was true. He'd recently discussed moving back in with May so that he wouldn't have to look for an apartment and....she liked having him around, he suspected. Less to worry about. They barely made rent with his chunk of money and Mays combined. "I'm uh- living with M-May again."

He hated admitting it because it felt like he wasn't supposed to. Like he needed a babysitter or he wasn't responsible enough to live alone.

"No shame in that," Tony assured him, like he could sense Peters internal dilemma. "I'll make sure Friday has some stuff sent to your apartment pronto, though-"

"No- no that isn't- that's n-not necessary, sir. It's f-fine-" He hastily tried to stop Tony because it didn't feel right, even with the position they were in and the money the older man was already giving him. It was just another thing Peter would owe him for and he felt vastly undeserving of the gesture.

"Peter," Tony said in a stern voice that made the younger man squirm in his seat. "I'm not gonna go crazy, I promise. But I'd prefer that you not go hungry, alright? It's the least I can do and....I'd like it if you'd let me."

His tone didn't offer much room for argument  and that fact alone had Peters mind drifting back to their interaction at the restaurant and- yeah, no. Not going there, they were avoiding that whole fiasco. 

"O-okay- but don't....don't do too much. Please." Peter squeaked, waiting for Tony to nod in agreement before he went back to his food, eating a little more reserved than before. 

He mostly wanted to avoid the intense look in the older mans eyes.

A thought hit Peter like a train wreck.

“Oh no! I gotta c-call May!” He let his fork flatter into his plate and began patting the pockets of his jeans, searching frantically for his phone.

“I already called her for you and I’m pretty sure you left your phone on the bedside table,” Tony said, no small amount of amusement as he ignored his own dinner. 

This felt like one of their weird fake dates but not. Why did it feel like that?

“You uh- what’d y-you tell her?” He asked, strain evident in his voice. 

“Just that you had a long day of pr meetings and needed to sleep it all off. She understood and said she was happy someone was taking care of you,” He only smiled wider at the mortified look on Peters face. Of course she’d say something like that.

Jesus, had May already figured out what had taken Peter weeks to figure out? And what exactly had he figured out?

Nope. Not going there. Avoiding those thoughts altogether.

“That’s- I uhh, t-thanks f-for,” Peter gulped and looked past Tonys shoulder, avoiding eye contact once again. “For taking c-care of me- that’s, I mean- if that’s what you were-“

Tony chuckled then, shooting him a fond look that made Peter’s entire body flame hot.

“It’s my pleasure,” Tony said and Peter was only imagining the low tone and the way he was steadily staring at him. He was imagining it because there was no way Tony would look at him like that. Not Peter Parker. “You deserve it. So, I told her you’ll be staying the night. And before you protest too much, it’s already 7pm so I think maybe it’s in everyone’s best interest if you just stay put. I know you know the guest room bed is super comfortable and you-“

“I waaaas just gonna a-a-ask if I could take a shower,” Peter giggled, interrupting Tony’s rant. He couldn’t help but grin at the older man and maybe that wasn’t the best idea because he only stared at him with a befuddled look on his face. 

“What? Is-is there s-something on my face?” He asked worriedly, eyebrows knitting as Tony let out a breathless sounding laugh before clearing his throat.

“No- I just, uh,” He said. “I haven’t seen you smile much. Not um....not like that.”

Peter felt even more confused and while he maybe should have been offended, he wasn’t. He had never been an overtly sunny person, at least not for the past few years.

“Not like what?” He asked, unsure why his voice came out so quiet. Almost a whisper as the two of them stared at each other. Tony looked....caught out. Embarrassed, maybe?

“Why don’t you finish up eating and go wash up? Towels are in the third drawer on the left,” He said in leu of an actual answer before abruptly getting up to leave the dining room.

Peter decided to not press the subject, despite his abundant confusion.

—


End file.
